Countdown to the 25th: Final Installment

Dear Daddy,

I have not told you, but I am going to the reunion. Would you believe it’s our 25th? I am addressing this to you, because you’ll understand my concerns from your Navy and celebratory days. This is my last letter before we storm Annapolis.

There must be five stages of re-entering a social system: skepticism, consideration, buy-in, mania, regret.
I may have peaked a bit too soon.

For me, there was tremendous excitement in the planning of taking Fort Apache Annapolis. Then one peaks and starts a downward slide. Mania dissolves into disenchantment. What was I thinking when I signed up for this mission? Can I actually walk in 4-inch heals?

Planning this like the storming of the Bastille has been exhilarating. Maybe it’s more like MacArthur’s return to the Philippines. The prep for the event may turn out to be more gratifying than the final execution. What does a combat commander (female, below the brigade level) do?

What is the objective? The reunion? But if one has not been back in 25 years is there a need to take this island? What compels attendance? This reunion tradition seems odd, but you were a big reunion guy. What am I missing here?

I lost the bid for class president in my Blaze of Glory campaign. This was not unexpected. We are moving swiftly into the next phase of the battle.

This is my last letter before we take Annapolis. Always go with the black sheath. You can’t lose with pearls. Ditch the hose. Lean strategically if you cannot walk in those 4-inch heels. Starve. I am sure I am now approaching this operation with trepidation similar to other classmates (unless they drink). I don’t feel the need to take this hill again.

I am sure people will ask about you and Mom. The academy may have meant more to you two than anyone else I know. Mom worked there more than 20 years. It’s been more than eight years since we’ve seen each other. It doesn’t seem right to go without you two, though the three of us together might be the usual disaster. My love to Nini and Nonno and Mom, if you and she are in touch. Tell them I’m ok.

I’ll let you know how it goes if we survive the landing.

All of my love,


Gina's Dad
Gina's Dad

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